Tea Time
by Ksndra2
Summary: Rick and Glenn meet a strange woman who can move among the Walkers without being attacked.


Tea Time

By Elise Bodenheimer

It was hard for Rick to believe what he was seeing. A middle-aged woman was calmly walking a small dog on a leash through a throng of Walkers. She seemed quite unconcerned about the dead things around her. What was more surprising, the Walkers were avoiding her and the dog. Even ones lying on the ground were crawling to get away from the unlikely pair.

The dog, a small furry thing, stopped by a tree to do its business as Rick watched in amazement. The woman was dressed like someone in a 1950's movie: a bright blue dress with a full skirt, white gloves and a broad brimmed hat. She carried a handbag over one arm. When the dog completed pooping, she opened the purse and pulled out a small blue bag. She then proceeded to clean up the feces. Walking over to a nearby trashcan, she deposited the poop bag in it. Saying something to the dog he could not hear, she turned and headed toward a large yellow and brown Victorian style house that was surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The woman pulled a key from her purse, unlocked the gate and went inside. As she locked the gate from the inside, she scanned the area outside the gate as though looking for something. He doubted she could see him. After a moment, she and the dog disappeared inside the house.

Rick had been scouting the area, looking through binoculars, trying to find a way into the small town in the valley below. There were a large number of Walkers on the streets, but they needed supplies and a place with that many Walkers was unlikely to have been picked clean by scavengers. Glenn was nearby, also looking for a way in and out.

The supplies they were scavenging for would wait. He would get Glenn and head for that house. It did not matter how many Walkers they had to go through to get to the house. In there was a woman who seemed immune to the Walkers. He had to find out how she did it. Perhaps then there would be a measure of safety in this nightmare that the world had become.

Rick put the binoculars back in him pack just as Glenn came back from scouting the area.

"I think I've found a mostly clear path to the local grocery store," Glenn told him.

"That will have to wait. Can we get to that large house just off the square? The one with the iron fence around it."

"Why?"

Rick told Glenn what he had seen, knowing as he did how hard it was to believe. To his surprise, Glenn accepted the whole story with little question. Perhaps it was the need for hope.

They plotted their course, and then carefully began making their way down the hill toward the town square. Rick let Glenn lead, knowing he had an instinct for finding the safest path. They passed a handful of Walkers, but moved so quietly that the Walkers, who were resting as they tended to do during the day, did not seem to notice them.

As they neared the wrought iron fence, the small dog started barking. The noise roused the Walkers. Rick and Glenn quickened their pace. Well placed blows with the machetes both men carried dispatched several Walkers who got too near, but they knew that if too many noticed them there was no way out.

"What in the world are you barking at Toddy?"

Rick and Glenn heard the woman's voice and sprinted towards the fence. They halted just outside the gate. Rick made eye contact with the strange woman, who seemed more bothered by the noise her dog was making then the sight of two strange men just outside her gate.

From somewhere, some instinct, Rick pulled out his long unused Sunday school manners. "Excuse me M'am, " he said in a soft polite tone. "Would you please let us come inside the gate before more Walkers realize we are here."

"Walkers? Oh, you mean the dead ones. " Her voice was cultured and soft.

"Yes, M'am, " said Glenn following Rick's lead. "Please."

She considered for a minute, then smiled a warm welcome and pulled a key from a pocket in her dress. As she stepped towards the gate, the Walkers that had been moving toward them stopped.

"It's been a while since I've had company here. Perhaps you'll take a cup of tea with me? Or coffee?" She said as she opened the gate.

"Thank you," Rick said, still maintaining his Sunday school manners as they hurried inside the gate. "My name is Rick. This is Glenn."

"Pleased to meet you Rick and Glenn. " She closed the gate behind them and Rick watched as she locked it and put the key back in her pocket.

"I'm Emma Frei and this is Toddy. Most people call me Miss Emma. That started when I was teaching school."

She motioned for them to follow her. "Of course the power has been out for ever so long, but fortunately I have the old cookhouse. You can wash up there while I fix some refreshments for you. " She led them, not into the house, but around the side. Sure enough, there was another building. "When the main house was built, it was safer to have the kitchen and wash area in another building in case of fire," she explained as she opened the door. "When electricity came to town, a kitchen was added to the house, but the family kept this one in working order. It has the original wood stove and mother insisted I learn to cook on it."

The kitchen seemed unchanged since the late 1800's. Rick saw a wood table with four chairs, various cabinets and all sorts of pots and pans hanging from the walls and ceiling. There was a stove where a fire was already burning. A large kettle was sitting on top of the stove. After removing her hat and tucking her gloves into the belt of her dress, their hostess added a few sticks of wood to the fire chatting all the while. "You young men can clean up over there," she said gesturing towards a sink with an old-fashioned hand pump. "There are some clean towels on that rack to your left."

Rick looked her over with a policeman's eye for details. She had short curly brown hair streaked with grey. Her eyes were brown. He guessed she was just about 5 feet tall and weighed probably around 120 or 130 pounds. She had a slight tan. Through her carefully applied makeup he saw the hint of age spots. More age spots were scattered on the back of her hands and on her arms. She's in her 50's or early 60's he thought to himself. Aloud he asked, "May we help?"

"Clean up first and then we can take our refreshments outside, " Miss Emma said. From a cabinet she removed a large, painted tray. On it she placed cups, saucers, plates, silverware and cloth napkins. While the men cleaned up, she moved about the kitchen, happily talking as though they were long lost relatives who had just dropped in for a visit. Most of the chatter was about the weather and such with a quick question here and there. Rick and Glenn kept their answers vague and let Miss Emma do most of the talking.

"I'm afraid I haven't had much time for baking, but at least I have some cookies I can offer you. Mother always preferred sandwiches or cake with tea." As she spoke she removed a number of cookies from a large ceramic jar shaped like a pig.

"Cookies would be wonderful," Glenn said, trying to remember the last time he had a cookie.

"Lovely. I'll make both tea and coffee. Most of my guests seem to prefer coffee, but Mother always insisted on tea." She pulled out a can of milk, opened it and poured it into the cream pitcher.

"Whatever is easiest for you, M'am," Rick said.

The kettle on the stove was whistling now. "If you'll just reach the coffee press down from that top shelf for me and the yellow can next to it," she said to Rick. He did as instructed. She took a thick towel and wrapped it around the handle of the kettle.

"Let me lift that kettle for you, Miss Emma. It must be heavy." Rick said.

"Why thank you dear," she said. She started to add coffee to the coffee press.

"Glenn, would you mind fetching me the green and gold teapot from that cupboard to your right?" she said with a smile. Glenn opened the door to the cupboard. It was a jumble of all sorts of odds and ends china, but he found the teapot she had asked for and brought it over to her. From a round blue canister next to the stove she scooped what seemed to be a mixture of dried herbs in to the teapot.

Following her instructions, Rick poured the boiling water first in to the teapot and then in to the coffee press. The coffee smelled wonderful. Once it was made, she placed it and the teapot on the tray. "Shall we take our refreshments out to the garden?" Even as she asked the question, she was opening the door and leading the way.

Carrying the tray, Rick followed her with Glenn close behind, keeping watch. All seemed peaceful enough, if somewhat surreal.

"When the weather is this lovely, one really does better to take tea outside, don't you think?" She was saying. "Of course, the garden is not at its best at the moment. It's hard to keep it up with no help."

"I'd be happy to help you, Miss Emma," Glenn said. "But you can't be living here all alone."

"Oh, I'm never alone. Toddy is such good company." As she spoke, the little dog was running along side them. "Just put the tray down there please and I'll pour," she said gesturing towards a large iron and glass table that was in a small garden just off the back porch of the house. Four chairs, also of iron, surrounded the table. Everything was covered with leaves and small sticks. Rick placed the tray down carefully as Miss Emma started brushing off a chair.

"Will you try a cup of tea?" she asked as she settled into the chair she had just cleared.

Both men nodded yes as they brushed off the chairs on either side of her and sat down. Rick was wondering how soon he could press her for information. Time was never on their side these days, but he wanted to be sure he had her trust.

"This is my great, great, great grandmother's special tea," she said as she poured tea into a china cup. "In the family, we refer to her as Granny Annie. She and my great, great, great grandfather came to this country just before the Civil War. I've never understood why they call it that. No war is ever civil." Miss Emma passed the cup to Rick. Then she poured another and passed it to Glenn.

"It is something of an acquired taste. Of course, I've been drinking it my entire life. Even before I was born you might say I was drinking it because, of course, my mother drank it as did her mother before her and hers before her. All the ladies in my family have been drinking it since Granny Annie developed it." She watched as both men took a sip and saw them try not to gag.

She seemed amused. "As I said, an acquired taste. Why don't you pour that out and just have some coffee?"

The two men did as she instructed. The small dog hurried over and started licking the puddle the tea made. Meanwhile, Miss Emma took two fresh cups from the tray and poured coffee for the two men. "Milk or sugar? No? Cookie?"

Gratefully, both men reached for the cookies. They were what Rick's grandmother had called teacakes. They tasted fresh and sweet.

Briefly Rick wondered if he was dreaming. Was he really sitting in a garden, drinking real coffee and eating cookies while dozens of Walkers slumped against the outside of the fence? He watched as she poured herself a cup of the tea he had found so foul tasting. She took a dainty sip, smiling as she did so.

"The cookies are wonderful," Rick said sincerely. Glenn chimed in his agreement with the statement as he helped himself to another cookie.

"I do enjoy entertaining. Mother taught me." She continued as though this was nothing more than an impromptu garden party.

"I was what they call a late in life baby. Mother was 50 and father was 55 when I was born. All of my brothers were in their 20's so they were more like uncles to me. Unfortunately, the men in my family were not tea drinkers. I don't think any of them survived the first round of the disease."

"So your father and brothers got the Walker sickness?" Rick asked.

"I assume my brothers did. I haven't heard from them in a long time and I'm sure they would communicate with me if they could. Father died long before the epidemic. Mother killed him," she stated in a calm, matter-of-fact manner.

The statement caught both Rick and Glenn off guard. Glenn, who had been taking a swallow of coffee, swallowed wrong and started to choke and cough. Miss Emma looked at him with concern. "Are you all right dear?"

"Yes, M'am," he said as soon as he could catch a breath. " I just…your mother killed your father?"

"Oh yes. Of course she was quite careful and the police ruled it an accident."

"What happened?" asked Rick.

The strange woman seemed pleased with her audience and launched into the story. "Well you see, father had been something of a ladies man since before he married mother. Mother looked the other way for most of their marriage, but when it was time for their 50th wedding anniversary and father asked what she wanted to celebrate the event, she asked him to stop having affairs. She thought it was undignified for a man of his age. He agreed, but then…well I guess it was just his nature. I was away at college at the time, but it seems he found a young lady more than willing to accept his favors. She actually came and told mother she wanted to marry him."

"But you said your mother had been looking the other way for 50 years." Rick said.

"Well he had affairs, but he never lied to her about it or broke his word. I'm not sure which she thought was worse," she said thoughtfully, "the lying or breaking his promise. Anyway, when he came home late one night she shot him. She was quite a good shot, particularly when you know that the power was out and it was very dark. She told the police she thought she heard a prowler and that no one had answered when she called out to see if someone was there. She said the police never mentioned that someone had clearly cut the power line or that father had a gun in his pocket. They were very kind. Of course, most everyone in town knew about father's little flings, but they all assumed mother had no idea, so they wanted to spare her. They really believed that it was father planning to kill mother so he could be with his latest friend. As I recall, it was Lily Steadman. I had a little chat with her right after the funeral and she decided it was best if she left town. " She paused and took another sip of tea. "Here I'm going on and on people you will never meet."

"That's okay. It's interesting," Rick said carefully.

"I'm sure you have interesting stories, too. Where are your from? Do you have family around here?"

"Our people are nearby. We were looking for supplies when we saw you. " Rick could not wait any longer. "M'am how are you able to keep the Walkers away from you."

"That's no mystery. It's Granny Annie's tea."

Glenn looked at the teapot and tea on the ground. "The tea?"

"Yes dear." She saw the men looking at the spilt tea. She seemed to be trying to reassure them as she continued. "Just one or two cups won't do you any good. You must drink at least 3 cups a day for at least 90 days before they leave you alone. As I said, I've been drinking it my whole life."

Rick was almost beyond words. "Why didn't you tell someone? Let someone in authority know?"

Miss Emma did not seem at all bothered by his reaction. "At first, when so many people got sick, I was busy taking care of some of my friends. By the time I realized that the ones who woke up were not bothering me, like they do you and others, things were quite chaotic. I did try to go to the people in charge, but they seemed to think I was just a daft old woman. They told me just to go home and lock my doors. So I did… for a while." She paused and took another sip of the tea.

Toddy was suddenly barking. Something was going on outside the fence.

"Toddy, house," she said firmly. Surprisingly, the little dog got very quiet and darted under the house.

Rick was suddenly alert. The Walkers beyond the fence were wandering around. "Is there a problem?"

"Perhaps," Miss Emma said vaguely. Her attention seemed elsewhere for a moment. She seemed to be listening for something, then shifted. "More coffee?" she asked pleasantly.

Rick nodded yes. Carefully he started looking about him. He had been lulled by the strange woman's behavior. Now his years of police training were kicking in. The large teakettle was already heating when they arrived. It was far too much for one person. She had been expecting company, just not him and Glenn. What was going on?

In less than a minute he had his answer. His ears picked up the roar of a vehicle that the dog had heard moments before. It was a heavily reinforced extended cab truck with the tires jacked way up as though it had been used to drive through heavy mud. The driver stopped it close to the gate. Three heavily armed men jumped from the back over the fence. A second later the driver had emerged through a hole in the top of the cab and followed them over the fence.

Rick and Glenn both reached for their guns. Each man felt a firm hand restraining his arm. "No guns," Miss Emma said softly. They shook her off, but the lost seconds were more than enough to let the invaders train their guns on Rick, Glenn and Miss Emma.

"Don't move," the one who seemed to be the leader ordered. "Make trouble and I'll slow you down just enough to make it easy for those ghouls to snack on you."

Rick looked the man over. He was tall, easily over 6 feet and looked to be solid muscle. He was heavily tanned with close-cropped hair and a full beard of bushy black hair. The other three men were shorter, but also muscular. The weak had trouble surviving these days, he thought. What did that make Miss Emma?

"Hello, Michael." Miss Emma's voice was tightly polite. "Will you and your friends join us for tea?"

"Yeah, sure," the man she had addressed replied sarcastically. "Chuck, Ed, you tie those two up. Joe, you check inside the fence and make sure no one else is hiding." He kept his pistol trained on Rick and Glenn.

Briefly, Rick considered trying to fight. He had no doubt the man she called Michael would shoot. What if he killed Miss Emma, who sat there so calmly, before Rick and Glenn could learn more about the tea that would keep them all safe from the Walkers? He made the decision not to fight back just yet.

As he felt a rope being looped around his wrists, Rick tensed them as much as he could, hoping to gain a little slack that he could use later. The one called Chuck brought the rope up around his neck. Lowering his wrists or pulling on the rope meant choking himself. Glancing over he saw Ed was doing he same to Glenn.

Michael gathered up Rick and Glenn's guns. He looked them over while Chuck and Ed relieved them of their machetes. With a grin on his face that spoke only of trouble, Michael addressed Miss Emma. "Where are they?"

"They?" she replied as though she had no idea whom he was speaking about.

A heavy hand swept across the table, knocking most of the china cups to the ground. "Don't act innocent with me you old witch. Where are my wife and daughter?"

"Your wife and daughter?" Rick was genuinely surprised.

"That's right. They're my family and this old witch has hidden them from me. I want them back." Michael's voice was laced with frustrated anger.

Miss Emma looked at him with the steady gaze of a teacher staring down an unruly pupil. "Why do you want them back? So you can abuse them again?"

"They're mine. And you're going to tell me where they are."

"Yeah," Chuck said. "And your also going to show us were you've got your supplies hidden. Food and fuel and whatever it is that you use to keep the ghouls from attacking you."

"If it's refreshments you need, I will prepare some for you. You hardly need guns for that." Her tone was again tightly polite, as though she was trying to teach them manners rather than fighting for survival.

The one called Joe was back and eating a tomato as he came. "No one else inside the fence. No sign of a car or truck. We need to check out the house." He took another bite of tomato and let the juice run down his face.

"The tomatoes are ripe?' Miss Emma asked. She seemed very pleased by this prospect.

"This was the only one," Joe said, then shoved the last of it in his mouth.

"We're not talking about tomatoes. Where are Ming and Missy?" Michael's voice held an unconcealed threat as he pointed the gun directly at Miss Emma.

She turned her attention back to Michael. "The break in Missy's arm has healed and all the bruises on Ming's face are gone." Miss Emma words were spoken softly.

"I was drunk. That only happens when I'm drunk." There was no sign of shame in Michael's voice.

"Then why do you drink?" she asked.

"I don't care about this," Chuck growled. "Where's all the stuff you said she has."

"She'll tell us, won't you?" Michael's voice was still a threat. "If you don't, you can watch us chop your boyfriends up and feed the pieces to the ghouls."

"Or we can be your boyfriends," Ed leered. "How about it, grandma? Bet it's been a long time since you had a man between your legs. Or maybe you never had a man? You might enjoy the kind of party I throw."

"Cut it out," Glenn blurted out. It earned him a hard slap across the face from Ed.

"There's no need for that," Miss Emma said sharply.

"Not if you cooperate. How about it? C'mon you old whore. Talk. " Michael ordered.

"There's no need to be crude," she replied. "I'll tell you what you need to know, but you must not hurt my guests."

"You don't give the orders, " Michael said harshly.

"If you want to know how to stay safe and about the supplies, it would be better if we could talk civilly." She looked down at the broken china. Then something in her attitude changed. She seemed to surrender. "It will take a while to explain it all. Except for the supplies that are in the house. Shall I prepare more coffee and refreshments for you? A full stomach might help you realize things don't have to be this way."

"That's better," Michael said, relaxing slightly but still keeping the gun trained on them. "Joe, go with the old biddy while she fixes us some grub. Make sure she doesn't try anything. Ed, you and Chuck go check out the house. If she's hiding anyone in there, kill them unless it's my wife and daughter.

"Don't go down into the wine cellar." Miss Emma voice was a soft warning.

"Wine cellar?" Ed repeated a little too eagerly.

Miss Emma did not seem to notice his eagerness. "Yes, grandfather built it himself. He fancied himself an expert on both wine and carpentry and he was neither. Those stairs are not safe."

"Or maybe you have some of your pet ghouls down there," Michael said.

"Really," she was indignant. "Those are hardly the type of creatures one keeps as pets. Do you have any idea of the damage they can do inside a garden, let alone a house?"

"Speaking of pets, where's that mutt of yours?" Michael asked as he looked around.

"Toddy? He's around here somewhere. Probably chasing chipmunks. He does have a fondness for that." She was smiling indulgently as she spoke, her gaze seemingly unfocused.

Miss Emma rose from her seat, brushed off the skirt part of her dress, and put the few remaining pieces of unbroken china and the silverware that had not been swept to the ground on the tray. Seeing Ed and Chuck headed for the house she called out, "The door is unlocked. Just give it a good push after you turn the knob." Then she picked up the tray and with a nod and a smile she trotted off with the one called Joe.

She's in total control, Rick realized suddenly. She wasn't expecting me and Glenn, but she was expecting these men. She's got them off their guard and she's splitting them up. He wondered what was in the house.

Michael settled in to one of the chairs. "So, how long have you known the old bitch?"

"We just met her a little while ago." Rick was thinking that the best thing was to keep him talking until he could figure out what Miss Emma was planning. "We were scavenging the area for supplies."

Michael snorted. "Supplies! That old biddy keeps this whole town guarded with her pet ghouls. Her people used to own this place and she thinks she still does." He looked towards the fence. Abruptly he got up, went over to the fence and started shooting at the Walkers taking out several, talking as he did so. "That's old man Levy. Always hated that Jew. There's that bossy Edwards dame. And that stupid Presley kid. Always shooting off his mouth. Hey, Reverend Staples. How's this for being the resurrection and the light?" After a few minutes he came back and seated himself at the table.

"You don't seem to like many people." Rick commented.

"People who cross me get what they deserve. Now with folks who show me the proper respect, I can be real friendly. You two behave and maybe I'll let you live. Maybe." He looked at Rick and Glenn then seemed to realize something. "If you two really just met Miss Emma, then where are you from? You got a camp nearby?"

Both Rick and Glenn shook their heads as best they could with the ropes around their necks. "We met a while back," Rick said. "Most of the folks who started out with us are dead. We've just been trying to find a safe place."

"A safe place. That old witch has a safe place. You better hope she tells me."

"Tells you what, Michael?" Miss Emma was walking towards them carrying a tray loaded with cups, food and coffee. The one called Joe was behind her, carrying his gun in one hand and eating a candy bar with the other.

Michael turned around and moved over just enough to let her place the heavy tray on the table. Rick could see a red mark on her cheek as though she had been slapped. Michael saw it too. He smiled.

"You guys should have been more firm with this bitch. She was trying to hold back the good stuff. She had a lot more than just cookies in that kitchen." Joe laughed as he stuffed the rest of the candy bar in his mouth.

Rick saw heavy white mugs on the tray, the coffee press and a great deal of food. Most of the food was prepackaged items such as crackers, jerky, candy and chips. Rick thought briefly of the irony that whoever had made them was probably long dead.

"What? No pretty china cups?" Michael asked sarcastically.

"Given what you did to my good china, I thought it prudent to bring you something more durable for your coffee," Miss Emma replied stiffly.

"Fine by me. Now pour," Michael ordered.

Miss Emma did as instructed. She poured coffee in to two of the mugs she had brought. When she started to pour a third Michael stopped her. "No need to waste it."

"Very well," she said meekly. "You seem to be in charge."

"I am you old bitch." He paused for a moment to watch the effect his words had on her.

Joe reached for his cup.

"Wait," Michael warned.

Joe paused. "What for?"

"She drinks first. Just to be sure it's safe."

"I watched her make it," Joe said.

"She drinks first," Michael repeated.

"Really!" Miss Emma seemed more insulted by this than the names they had called her.

"Drink," Michael ordered.

"I prefer tea," she replied primly.

Michael put his gun to Glenn's temple. "Drink or he's gonna be spilling blood all over your table."

"Very well." Miss Emma picked up the mug she had set in front of Michael and took a swallow. She then did the same thing with the mug she had poured for Joe. ""Happy?"

Joe plopped himself down in the 4th chair, leaving Miss Emma standing as he took a long pull from the mug and then tore open a pack of cheese crackers. Michael placed his gun on the table and helped himself to a candy bar.

"Now, where are Missy and Ming?" Michael asked.

"At the lake house," Miss Emma replied.

"And where is this lake house?" Michael blew on his coffee and then took a swallow.

"Quite a ways from here. Most of the roads leading to it are not marked on maps. I'll either have to take you there or draw a map. Not that I'm much of an artist with maps. Drawing was never one of my talents." Her voice was soft. "Ming, of course, is quite a talented artist."

Michael took a larger swallow from his mug. "Is that why she ran to you? Cause you like her art?"

"She ran to me because you beat her and your daughter and killed her parents."

"You killed your wife's parents?" Glenn asked. Rick suspected Glenn had also realized Miss Emma was stalling. It was risky to draw attention to himself, but Glenn was one to take risks to help others.

"They tried to keep me away from her." He laughed unpleasantly as though the death of his in-laws was a big joke.

"Poor Elaine and George," Miss Emma said sadly. She seemed to feel the need to explain to Rick and the others as she continued talking. "They couldn't have children so they adopted Ming from China. She was only a baby. The prettiest little thing you ever saw. Such a good student too. Then she grew up and went to Atlanta to try and make a living as an artist and met you." She looked sternly at Michael.

"Hey, I was good to her."

"Maybe at first," Miss Emma countered. "When did you beat her the first time? Wasn't it when she had that gallery showing?"

Michael looked down as his mug. "Bitch had to learn her place."

"And when she finally tried to run away you killed her parents. Didn't think you would get caught, did you?" Miss Emma was looking at Michael now as though she was waiting for something.

"You didn't think an epidemic would come along and they'd let me out of prison so I could help bury the dead, did you?" Michael was smiling again.

"Death is not all there is," she replied.

Michael poured himself another cup of coffee and reached for another snack. "Speaking of death, how have you avoided the disease? Why don't the ghouls touch you?"

Looking down at the four men seated around the table, she shifted gears, going back to her schoolteacher mode. "What you have to understand is that there are any number of substances that are quite beneficial in small doses, but can kill you if you take too much at once. With some of them, if you take small doses over a long period of time, you build up such a tolerance that a dose that would kill a grown man does you no harm at all." She said all this while smiling and speaking in the tone a teacher might use with small children. The one called Joe looked up at her, but this time there was no threat. Instead he wobbled in his chair for a moment and had just enough time to stare down at his empty coffee mug before falling over.

Michael looked over at Joe. He tried to reach for the gun he had placed on the table, but his movements were sluggish and Miss Emma beat him to it.

"I think not," she said as she moved the gun out of his reach.

Michael made one attempt to get up and then he too slumped over.

Smiling, Miss Emma took her gloves out of her belt. She pulled them on and started searching Michael's body.

"Be careful," Rick urged her.

"Oh, you need not worry about them. No one ever wakes up from that poison."

"Poison?" Rick looked at the pot she had poured his coffee from and down at the remains of his own cup on the ground.

Miss Emma had found what she was looking for. Taking a large knife from Michael's corpse, she started sawing at Rick's rope. She saw where he was looking as she cut through the rope, freeing him. Miss Emma giggled a little and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. The poison was coated inside the mugs. A trick handed down from Granny Annie. I always have a few mugs in the house coated with poison. Unless I tell you which ones, you can't tell by looking, or even tasting what is in the mug."

"But I saw you drink from the mug," Rick said as he rubbed his wrists.

Miss Emma was now cutting the ropes that bound Glenn. "The ingredients in the poison are also in the tea, in much smaller amounts of course. I've long since built up a tolerance."

"We need to get the two in the house," Rick said.

"Yes, they should be dead by now. Don't touch those snacks," she said to Glenn as he reached for a candy bar. "I put poison in most of them."

Glenn pulled his hand back. "How? They look fine."

"It's not hard if you know how. You can poison someone with toilet paper if you know how. Now if you young men don't mind, please move these two bodies over there." She was pointing to a spot near the house. "Then we can go in to the house and remove the other two."

"M'am, better let me and Glenn go now and catch them off guard. Just in case whatever you had in there for them didn't work." Rick had his gun again now. He looked at the bodies of the two men who moments before were such a threat. "Are you sure they won't come back?"

"Yes, Rick. Quite sure. However, I suppose you are right about the two in the house. We'd better make sure they will not be bothering us again. Then we can move all the cadavers to a more convenient place." She looked over at the house. "Toddy!" she called. The small dog came running out from under the house. She led the way as they all headed for the house.

Rick opened the door for her, and then stood aside, acting the gentleman as she entered the house.

She stopped just inside the door and waited for Rick and Glenn to enter. "Leave the door open, please," she said. "We need the light."

She led the way down a short hall to the kitchen. The two called Chuck and Ed were lying on the floor. Each man was still clutching a wine bottle that had brought his death.

"Looks like they found the wine cellar," Glenn observed.

""No, Glenn. I left several bottles in the cabinet and on the counter. That's where those came from. A very poor vintage." She shook her head. "Now we have such a mess."

"Are you sure you don't want us to put a bullet through their heads?" Rick asked.

"No need, Rick," she responded. "It's the same poison I put in the coffee mugs and all that vile junk food."

Glenn had noticed a door and was opening it. "What's in here?"

"Careful, dear," she warned. "That's the wine cellar. The stairs are not safe."

Glenn shut the door. "I could fix them for you if you like."

"No need. I know which ones will hold my weight. The others are just cardboard with a thin veneer. It keeps prowlers from looting the cellar. Although most of the wine down there really isn't worth it. Grandfather just didn't have the knack for making or even buying good wine."

Rick wondered what other traps were in this old house. Aloud he said, "Tell us what you want us to do, Miss Emma."

She had them carry the two bodies out to the table were the other two bodies sat while she cleaned up the kitchen. When Rick and Glenn came back in everything was in perfect order. She shooed them out of the house and they headed back to where the corpses were piled at the table.

"Might as well leave them here until morning. You can use them as a diversion when you leave tomorrow," Miss Emma said.

She started to reach for the tray, but Glenn got there first. "Let me carry this for you, Miss Emma."

"Thank you," Miss Emma said with a smile and headed off towards the cookhouse.

"Miss Emma, you said we could use them as a diversion when we leave tomorrow?" Rick asked as he hurried after her.

"Yes. I think that would be best."

"What about you? Are you leaving tomorrow?"

They were at the cookhouse now. She turned to look at Rick. "Why do you ask?"

"We have other people in our group, including some children. If you would let us join you or even just let the children join you…."

She seemed to consider his words. "It will be dark soon." She paused and looked at the sky, then returned her attention to the two men waiting for her answer. "Why don't I fix us all a nice supper and we can discuss it? I have other people to worry about as well."

"You were expecting Michael and the others weren't you?" Rick asked as they went in to the cookhouse.

"Yes. They've been trying to catch me for several months. I came to town to pick up a few things last month and they almost caught me. I eluded them, but I knew that it was either give up the town or do something about them. Glenn, you can put the tray over by the sink. Then if you will climb up on the table and move that plank directly above the table you'll find something better for supper than all that junk food." She started adding wood to the stove.

Glenn moved the plank and pulled out a smoked ham and two jars of what looked like vegetable soup. Rick, at Miss Emma's direction, moved a plank in the floor and pulled out more food. As the men watched and did whatever they were asked to do, Miss Emma made biscuits, heated the soup and pulled out more cookies. As before, she kept up a running stream of small talk, refusing to let them switch the conversation to anything important, asking silly questions here and there.

It was after they finished supper that her conversation changed to what they wanted to discuss. "I was not expecting you two," she said. "At first I thought you were with Michael, but you were so well behaved I realized you were not part of his group. It was quite fortunate for me. You made a nice distraction. Not to mention that it would have been quite difficult for me to move those bodies by myself."

"We were glad to help." Rick remembered the way Michael had kept his gun trained mainly on himself and Glenn. He realized she had made use of them to keep the now dead men from focusing so much on her. "Somehow, I think you would have found a way to manage if we hadn't come."

She was sitting with the small dog in her lap, stroking his hair. "Yes, but I do appreciate your help. That's why I'm sorry I can't take you with me at this time. Maybe at some point in the future, but not now."

"Why not?" Rick knew he could not use force with this woman. Surely he could convince her to take them with her.

"I don't believe some of the people in your group would fit in with my little group. You must go back to your people and I must go back to mine."

Glenn and Rick both wondered what they had said in all that small talk that had led her to this decision. Could they change her mind?

"Miss Emma…"Glenn started.

"No, dear," she said firmly if a little sadly.

"Miss Emma," Rick paused, picking his words carefully. "Please, tell us what assurances you need. We'll do whatever you ask."

"It's not open for discussion. I'll give you the recipe for Granny Annie's tea and some supplies, but I simply cannot take you with me."

"Miss Emma…"Rick suddenly was aware that he was getting very sleepy. He looked over at Glenn who was trying to rise and realized the same thing was happening to him.

"Now you young men don't worry." Miss Emma's voice seemed to be going in and out, as if he was on the verge of a dream. "I just gave you something that guaranteed you a good night's sleep. You'll be quite safe in here tonight and in the morning you can go back to your people. I feel quite sure we will meet again one day."

Rick and Glenn still had the feeling of unreality as they explained everything to Hershel.

"The men she poisoned never woke up?"

"When we woke up in the morning the bodies were still where we left them. Over 12 hours and they stayed dead. We tossed their bodies over the fence as a diversion when we left, just a Miss Emma suggested." Rick said. "She left us backpacks full of supplies. All things considered, we didn't try to take anything else from her house."

"I can understand that," Hershel said. "What about the truck you said the men drove up in?"

"Gone when we woke up. Miss Emma must have taken it." Glenn said.

"She also left these two notes, the one saying goodbye and the one with the recipe for the tea, and two jars of her tea. We did as she instructed and poured the tea all over our clothes. It kept us safe for almost an hour." Rick said.

Glenn chimed in. "And every Walker that fed on the bodies of those men she poisoned died almost as soon as they bit into them."

"All along, this old woman had the answer. A way to keep the Walkers from attacking." Hershel shook his head. "It may have even been a cure for the sickness."

"And no one would listen to her," Rick's voice was bitter.

"I recognize most of the ingredients. When I was in veterinary school, I went on a mission trip one summer in the Tennessee hills. It was such a rural area it made my farm look urban. Some of these names were what those folks used to describe the herbs and other plants they used. But these last two, Apollo and Cassandra… I've never of heard of any plant called by these names." He stopped to consider. "Apollo was the sun god in Greek mythology. Maybe it's some kind of sunflower? Or a plant that grows in full sun?"

"And Cassandra?" Rick asked.

"In Greek mythology, she was a mortal. Apollo fell in love with her and gave her the gift of prophecy. However, when she spurned his love, he turned the gift in to a curse. She could still see the future, but no one would believe her predictions. She was the sister of Hector in the Helen of Troy legend. She knew the Trojan Horse was a trick, but no one would believe her."

"What kind of plant could that mean?" Glenn wondered.

"Didn't you say that she said the poison she used was based on the ingredients in the tea?

Rick nodded. "That's what she said."

"Then it has to be these last two ingredients. None of the rest of these is poisonous. That's a clue. If we only had access to a laboratory."

"Could you analyze the tea? Figure out what was in it?" Rick asked. He pulled a small package out of his pocket. It was a sample of the tea Miss Emma had left for them in one of the backpacks, along with brewing instructions. Would this small sample do any good?

"I don't know. A good chemist might with the right equipment. Know where we can find one?"

"No, but at least we have the tea sample. We just have to keep trying to find out what it is." There's hope in this small package, Rick thought as looked at it.

The large, old Cadillac drove through the gate and stopped. The young man who closed the gate after it had a rifle in his hand. He was clean and well dressed. Most observers would have said he was in his early twenties. With his red hair, hazel eyes and freckles, he looked like the boy next door many young girls once dreamed of meeting. A sword hung from the belt at his waist. Miss Emma smiled as she caught his eye.

"Welcome home, Miss Emma," the young man leaned in to the car and gave her a peck on the cheek. "We were a little worried. You were expected back this morning."

"No need to worry. It just took me a longer than I expected to find everything. Next time I go to town I'll take you with me. I found a truck there we can use and I'll need you to drive it back." She paused, thinking about the garage on the edge of town where she had hidden her car before she walked to her house and where Michael's truck was now hidden. The man who owned the garage had always been so nice, but he had been one of the first to die of the plague. She pulled herself back from her thoughts and focused on the young many standing next to her car. "Is everything going well here, Jack?"

"Pretty much. A few of the dead ones got inside the perimeter and we had to put them down to keep them away from the chickens."

Miss Emma sighed. "Can't be helped. Anything else?"

Jack grinned. "Yes, but if I told you Missy would be disappointed. She's been waiting to tell you her big news."

"Then I must hurry up to the main house. See you at supper?"

"Yes, Miss Emma."

The little dog on the seat next to her woke up as they bumped over the dirt road. When the car stopped, he started barking excitedly and jumped out the window.

The house she pulled up to was the largest one in the compound. It was far older than the Victorian style one she had left in town. Behind it a lake could be seen. Half a dozen other structures were scattered near it, including one that was clearly under construction, but near completion.

The dog's barking roused the folks in the house. A little girl of about 6 with Asian features came running out of the house. A black woman, tall and lean but of the same age as Miss Emma was close behind her.

"Miss Emma! Miss Emma!" The little girl was clearly thrilled she was back.

Miss Emma scooped the girl up and gave her a big hug, then set her on the ground. "Now Missy, Jack said you had something special to tell me."

""Honey had her puppies last night. Six of them!"

"That's wonderful"

Missy, full of childish enthusiasm was pulling her towards one of the nearby buildings. "You have to come see."

"Miss Emma," the black woman's tone was just this side of bossy. "Those puppies will have to wait. Your Momma has been fussing something fierce for over an hour. She's been waiting for you before she'll have her tea."

"Then we must not keep her waiting. Margaret, will you have some of the boys come unload the car. I think I got everything everyone wanted. Come on, Missy, let's take tea and then we will go see the puppies.

The little girl's enthusiasm was not dampened. "Okay. Let's go see Granny."

Margaret walked ahead up the stairs and held the door open. "You know your Momma says no woman who's 100 should be kept waiting."

"She's 103 and she knows it," Miss Emma replied tartly as she stepped in to her house, happy to be home and, for the moment, safe.

The End


End file.
